


A Tale of a Rabbit and a Wolf

by OnyxStitches



Series: The Fraser Valley Pack [1]
Category: Alpha and Omega - Patricia Briggs, Mercy Thompson Series - Patricia Briggs
Genre: Cannon levels of violence and gore, Discussions of eating people and things, F/M, Magic, Multi, Original Werewolf Pack(s), Rabbit as in the same way Coyote exists in the Mercy Verse, Shapeshifters - Freeform, The First People, Walkers, Werewolves, Witches, look their werewolves, rabbit - Freeform, you know what that means
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-06-30 14:54:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15753990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxStitches/pseuds/OnyxStitches
Summary: Syrena Sinclair is a barista, a university student, a witch's granddaughter, and a walker all at once. She knows all about complicated personal identities. She also knows that her cafe's newest customer is certainly not what he seems. The predator in his eyes makes the wild part of her panic, and the woman purr. She's going to need all her wits about her to survive the changes he'll bring to her life.Alexander LaChance is the alpha of the Fraser Valley pack, but he's also an avid lover of secrets. Mainly hunting them down and learning everything about them. Which is why he finds the strangely inhuman barista of a local cafe slash bookshop so fascinating. Not only is she a possible threat living in the heart of his territory, but she also holds hidden connections to his pack's alleys, and a history all but the eldest local wolves have forgotten.Meanwhile tensions skyrocket as talk turns to the werewolves revealing themselves, and something ancient stirs in the woods.





	1. First Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> As always a huge thank you to my awesome beta reader and all around plot wrangler [JannelleSaDiablo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JannelleSaDiablo) for all her hard work.

It was a perfectly normal afternoon at the Hungry Bookworm Cafe when a man walked in the door of the cafe, and everyone turned to look at him. It was as if everyone’s gaze was drawn to the stranger. It was the first time Syrena Sinclair had ever seen such a thing happen, and it made her skin prickle. No one should have that sort of presence. No one had swept in and stolen people's attention like that before. The people in the cafe at this hour tended towards the more introverted crowd. There was no logical reason for all of them to have stared. It was unnatural.

Or perhaps supernatural, but she tried not to think about that possibility to heavily. The Hungry Bookworm was a joint cafe and bookstore that was incredibly well warded. The wards discouraged most of nastier supernatural beings, and they had very few gaps in them. Nothing to dangerous or meaning to harm those within should have been able to get inside. Only the oldest and most magically potent of creatures could have broken through the wards, and if such an event had happened Rena’s bracelet would have alerted her. It wasn’t likely that she had missed it burning to ash while it was tied around her wrist.

So exactly what sort of monster must the stranger be to have that sort of draw on the people in Rena’s cafe and still be aloud through the wards? Rena pondered this in the seconds the room remained frozen. Grandmother Sinclair had set those wards up, and she was the strongest white witch in all of BC. They should have been untouchable.

It was times like this when Rena wished she was a witch like her grandmother and cousins were. Any of them would likely have a spell that would let them know exactly what they were facing. But Rena was no more a witch then the pigeons gathering on the patio were. She hardly even counted as witchborn. She had no way of simply knowing what the stranger who was both so clearly powerful and dangerous was, or why he had so easily bypassed the wards.

The man was tall, nearly six foot, and had skin the same shade as finely polished oak. His eyes were a pleasant hazel and he wore his dark brown hair in a long crew-cut style with the front gelled up a little. The overall look was very mature on him.

He was wearing a burgundy dress shirt with black slacks and a black tie. The whole look was so sharp and put together that it made Rena wonder if he was a lawyer of some sorts. Between his obvious good looks and power it was no real wonder that people were looking him over, but Rena knew what she’d felt. The was something more to this man.

She wanted to examine him more, but she forced herself to look away when most of the other people in the room did. The man didn’t appear bothered by the stares. Still Rena did not want to draw too much of this stranger's attention. Instead she turned her back on him and began preparing a fresh pot of coffee. There were very few reasons for people as clearly wealthy as that man to be wandering into the Hungry Bookworm, and Rena doubted he was here for the books. Plus it gave her an excuse to settle her mind and calm her expression while her back was turned. Right now she needed all the calm she could get.

* * *

Alexander LaChance stepped into the little cafe he’d found to try since his usual haunt was under renovations for the next two weeks, and everyone in the room turned to look at him. He almost sighed. Most people would have balked at that sort of attention, but Alex was used to it. The sudden interest of everyone in the room when he walked in was nothing new to him. It was because of what he was and just a part of everyday life to him. An annoying part of life, but he dealt with anyways. Everyone would go back to their own business in a moment or two anyways once they realized they were staring.

The person whose interest bothered him the most was the little barista's, funnily enough. She looked neither dazed nor attracted the way most women who stared at him did. Instead she was gazing at him warily, as if she knew he was dangerous and hadn’t made up her mind on whether to run yet.

She was pretty for such a wairy little thing. Her hair was up in a ponytail, but even so the auburn ringlets draped down her back. Her hair was dark enough that in the mood lighting of the cafe it probably appeared black to the humans around him. Alex, however, saw the red undertones and highlights in it. The colour matched her eyes, which were a strange reddish brown he didn’t often see on humans.

She was short and curvy, but he could see the ripple of muscles under her dark skin. This was a woman who got active quite often, and probably enjoyed it. She was wearing dark pants with a white blouse tucked in. All of that was mostly covered by the black apron she wore, which was adorned by the bright green worm that was the shops mascot. The whole look was both professional and comfortable looking on top of looking rather cute.

The most interesting thing about the little barista wasn’t her looks though. It was her scent.

He’s almost missed it with all the hustle and bustle of the cafe around them, but it became easier to separate out the closer he got to the counter. She was sweet. Sweat and woman, coffee and sugar, wild thing and prey; her scent called to him. The beast inside Alex perked up and growled in anticipation as they drew nearer.

She smelt like prey, like something to be chased down a devoured, and it excited him. She didn’t smell like that because she was scared either. She wasn’t scared of him. No, instead her scent reminded him of wild things hunted down and devoured under the full moon. His beast sent him the thought of soft fur and terror quick heartbeats before the memory of warm blood flooding his mouth. It was all Alex could do to swallow down his saliva and keep walking.

He knew his eyes were an unnatural shade of gold now, but there was nothing he could do about it. Fervently he hoped none of the bystanders had seen the shift in eye colour, and made a mental note to don his sunglasses as soon as it would not seem strange to do so. Then he rested one hand on the counter and gave the little barista, who had turned away to tinker with a pot a moment before, a polite hello.

* * *

Contrary to what her lax posture and busywork behind her counter might imply Rena was not unaware of the man’s approach. She was too inhuman to ignore a stalking predator heading right for her. Which was why she was completely prepared with a cheery voice and customer service smile when the stranger’s rich voice washed over her.

“Hello, welcome to The Hungry Bookworm Cafe and Used Bookstore!” She recited as she turned around. “If you are looking for the bookstore it’s down those stairs to the basement, and you can place orders for the cafe here with me. What can I get for you today?” Rena was careful not to meet his direct gaze as she spoke to the stranger. Too many things could steal your will with a glance, and she would not risk being enspelled.

Her heritage might make her mostly immune to vampire magic, but any hardy fae or witch could catch her if they wanted to. Until she knew what he was meeting the strangers glance was a risk she was unwilling to take. She’d do her best not to touch his bare skin either. There were many ways for magic to travel.

He smiled at her. Flashing bright teeth that sent a frisson of fear down her spine, and responded. “A large black coffee with a shot of espresso please miss.”

“Room for cream or sugar?” She asked, gesturing to the side of the counter where such things were kept out for the customers to help themselves with. The cafe staff preferred to encourage the customers to doctor their own cups up, and left out all sorts of creams, sugars, and alternatives for its customers to choose from. She caught a whiff of his cologne as she did so. Whatever scent that was it was nice, but there was something familiar underneath it... was that mint?

The man shook his head. “Just black please, but I’ll take something sweet to eat too. What would you recommend?”

“The staff bakes everything fresh every morning, so it's all pretty good. Our house special is the chocolate chiffon cake on the platter in that case. We only offer it on mondays and fridays, plus the icing is made from traditional buttercream recipes. It’s only four dollars a slice if you want some.” Rena pointed at the cake covered in white and black swirls if icing as she stared the espresso machine beside her. It was her mother’s specialty and even better tasting then it looked. She took another sniff as she did so.

He did get the slice of cake, and she rung him up while waiting for the espresso to finish. Then she passed him his change and got to work packing up a slice of cake in a take out container when he requested one. When she passed him his his order she smiled up at him, and this time met his gaze. Those pretty hazel eyes were now an eerie gold, but she wasn’t scared. She’d finally pinpointed what was so familiar about that scent.

He smelled like mint and musk.

Rena had been warned by her grandmother of the werewolf pack in town when her parents and her had first arrived in Abbotsford. The elderly Mrs. Sinclair did not often interact with them since they paid as black witch living in Vancouver for whatever magic they needed for the pack, or so she claimed. The rest of the family openly believed that was lie. Grandmother Sinclair knew a little too much of the pack’s going ons not to be at least mildly affiliated with them.

Rena should have been expecting one of them to wander into the cafe eventually. So long as they weren't planning on harming anyone inside the wards would let wolves through.

She should have recognised what he was sooner, but she’d only met a handful of werewolves while growing up in Edmonton, and his calonge hid his scent very well. Perhaps she should invest in perfume and try the same trick herself, Rena pondered. The wolf gold eyes she’d just dropped her gaze from told her that her scent was setting him off. Likely the wolf didn’t even understand why. Rena looked human enough on the outside, but she would smell like prey to him. The human half would be curious, but the wolf would only want to chase and hunt. That was why she’d grown up forbidden to shift outside of her own backyard.

Her mother’s shoulder would bear the scars of her last meeting with a werewolf while transformed for the rest of the woman's life. The lines and divots in her skin would be an immortal reminder to Rena of exactly how dangerous werewolves could be to something like her. She reminded herself of that while the man turned and walked off.

“Werewolves are dangerous, no matter how good looking.” She scolded herself as she got back to work. It was just to bad. The man really had been handsome. She might have asked him out, if only she wasn't worried about being eaten alive.

* * *

Alex let the door to the Hungry Bookworm close behind him while pulling on his sunglasses to hide his still golden eyes. Yes, he thought, letting wolves in is dangerous. But who was she,  _ what  _ was she to know that? She wasn’t witch or fae. He’d have smelled that, and it was midday. That knocked vampires and most nocturnal monsters off the list. Sure the cafe had been a little dimly lit, but he was pretty sure that was for the aesthetic.

She’d smelled so good. Already his wolf was bristling at leaving such a tasty morsel behind. It did not like the idea of leaving her where some other predator could get to her. No, they had found the strange woman first. They would be the one to discover her secrets for themselves.

A part of Alex regretted not getting to touch her skin or rub his scent across her. The scent marking would have let any of his pack know he knew her and they would have kept an eye on her for him. Such a fascinating mystery should be protected, at least until he had a chance to unravel her. Alex was old enough, and had been alpha of the Fraser Valley Pack long enough that very little interested him anymore.

He pulled his favorite pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and slid them on. His eyes would likely stay golden for a while longer, and the last thing Alex needed was a picture of that making it online. The Fae might be out, but the wolves were not. Bran would gut him if Alex was foolish enough to get caught looking so inhuman.

The door before him slid open, and the sign hanging on the wall directly across from it made him smile. The metal work spelling out ‘LaChance Accounting and Management Firm’ was the same one the wolf who had changed him had made to hang over the orginal office Alex had opened nearly eighty years ago. Old Charlie had gifted Alex the sign shortly before the loss of his mate had driven the old wolf to take a dip in a lake. Alex’s first duty as alpha had been fishing his prediscors corpse out of the lake before the humans found it.

The sign still made him smile though, even after all these years. Now his business was a huge firm handling the accounts of thousands of wealthy customers and businesses. Alex was once again acting as the CEO, now listed as the grandson of the original Alexander LaChance.

“Welcome back sir.” Sitting at the reception desk under old Charlie’s sign was a gangly young teen. He was blond, wearing a clearly new dress shirt, and kept his gaze down on the floor. “You’re right on time, but your one o’clock is cancelled.” The boy smelled nervous, but not afraid.

Good, because Taylor, the boy, had been a wolf less than three moons. Fear would be the boys enemy. As would any strong emotions really. Alex would have hated for first day nerves to set off his newest wolf in the presence of his human employees.

“Any issues?” Alex asked. He would have received an update right away if there had been, but it was always good to check.

Taylor shook his head, and his shaggy blond hair swayed with the movement. “No sir. The Clarks cancelled because of some vet based emergency. I could hear Mrs. Clark demanding Tifi get her stomach pumped by the vet so I guess she ate something not so dog friendly, but it didn’t really sound like an emergency.” The faint scrunch of his nose betrayed exactly how the boy felt about the rather over dramatic Mrs. Clark. “Otherwise everything is going smoothly so far. Mrs. Singh is on her full break, which is why I’m manning the desk alone.”

“Good job Tye.” Alex patted the boy on the head. Giving the submissive wolf the reassurance he needed and showing his pride in how well the young wolf was handling his first day at work all in one neat gesture. “Are you heading home with Sanpreet or waiting here for me?” He asked as an afterthought.

Sanpreet Singh was Alex’s front desk receptionist, and a scarily old werewolf dating all the way back to the crusades. She was also Taylor’s mentor for the next year or so while he adjusted to werewolfdom.

Tyler thought for a moment. His face scrunching up in that adorably young way that reminded Alex once again how tragic the boy’s change had been. “I need to get some books for my english paper. Is it okay if I catch a ride with you sir?”

“Books? A trip to Coles then?” Alex asked. They’d just come from another bookshop, his mind reminded him. It had housed the most interesting morsel.

Tyler sighed at that. “Nah, we were asked to pick older books, so a used book store would be better. Especially since I tend to write in the margins.” A habit that made the library an unuseable tool for the boy.

Ah, an opportunity. Someone up there liked him, Alex decided. “Just your luck then kid, but I happen to know a place we can try. It's just a few blocks away, called the Hungry Bookworm.”

The wolf inside him stirred at the promise of a hunt, and Alex took a moment to mentally apologize to the barista. His wolf was going to enjoy hunting down all of her secrets. Even if she didn’t want him to.


	2. Return of the Stranger

The Hungry Bookworm ran surprisingly late hours for a bookshop. Probably because the cafe drew in a decent enough crowd to justify keeping it open that late. It was a sound business decision, and worked wonderfully in Alex’s favour as he strode in, with Taylor trailing behind him.

Once again everyone seemed to look up upon his entrance, pulled in by the power of his wolf. Alex knew this, and occasionally envied the Marrok. Bran was well known for being able to suppress himself enough to seemingly disappear in a crowded room. Alex wanted that. He’d never mastered the trick though. Instead he simply dealt with the attention.

Thankfully the evening crowd was much quicker to turn away. Alex wasn’t sure if it was because the room was full of exhausted, introverted collage kids, or because Taylor’s presence blunted his own. Submissive wolves were surprisingly calming to those around them.

Of course all that calm went right out the window when Alex saw who was manning the counter. A sullen looking teenage boy was putzing around in the cafe’s signature apron. Unenthusiastically straightening displays and wiping down the counter until he noticed Alex’s predatory gaze. This was not the prey Alex was hunting, and the wolf was displeased.

“You are not the barista from this morning.” He pointed out, trying and nearly failing to keep his voice polite.

The boy tucked shaking hands into his apron pocket. “Rena’s in the basement doing inventory, but don't bother man. She doesn’t date customers.”

“I’d keep that in mind if I was planning on asking her out.” Alex responded. His voice was cutting and his eyes a hard amber. Then he swept off down the stairs leaving an eerily quiet room behind him.

* * *

Honestly right now Taylor Jackson was very confused. Today his alpha had broadsided him with the bookstore offer, then rushed them both out the door surprisingly early. It was clear that Alex had hidden motives for dragging Taylor to this specific bookstore.

He was starting to think he was only here so Alex had a reason for showing up twice in one day. Not that Taylor was bother by that. No broke college kid would turn down a free trip to a bookstore. Especially not one who had to keep up with a werewolves metabolism. Taylor was even scoring some sweet gossip for the pack grapevine. No one gossiped like bored werewolves, and decent gossip was a currency all its own in a pack.

It was probably a good thing Alex had brought him along, Taylor decided after a moment's thought. The alpha’s temper was clearly running high, and Taylor knew his calming presence would only be a good thing here. Alex had looked just a little dangerous while speaking with the poor barista. A part of Taylor had feared that his alpha was going to eat the boy in front of all those witnesses. Which would have no doubt pissed off the Marrok thoroughly.

Luckily Alex had restrained himself to cool words and sub vocal growls. So now Taylor was following his alpha down a spiral staircase and leaving the fearful quiet of the cafe behind. Once they were out of sight of the humans Alex had sped down the stairs. Apparently whatever this hunt was about would likely be found in the basement.

No matter what Taylor would remain on alert though, because with werewolves violence was always an option. That, and Taylor wasn’t sure what was waiting for them below the cafe. Whatever it was it had caught Alex’s attention in a way few things could. 

* * *

The basement of the Hungry Bookworm was best described as cosy. It was mostly full of rows upon rows of overfull bookshelves. There were little isles between the back to back shelves. At the end of each row was a little chair or bean bag for customers to settle in, and several step stools were scattered about. It was kinda cramped, but the walls and carpet were brightly coloured with plenty of lamps to make up for it.

The whole room smelt of paper, ink, and pinewood. Alex could tell the place had been recently dusted and vacuumed. Plus there was a bundle of dried lavender tied over the doorway. A radio likely hidden behind the counter was playing classical music just loudly enough to be audible to humans in the whole room. Which also meant it was low enough not to disturb even a wolf’s sensitive hearing.

The back edge of the room held the counter. Behind it was a row of glass display cases and a door. Each book or object in the glass display cases had a little index card with a description and sales price. And a small spinning display full of bookmarks sat on the counter beside the till. It was the door behind the counter that caught Alex’s attention the most though. It was painted a soft grey with black stickers on top spelling ‘employees only office’ in all caps.

Alex took this all in, memorised the layout of the room, then released his new wolf into the stacks. There was no one else in the stacks but them, but Alex could here a soft heartbeat in the office.

A few moments later the door to the office popped open, and the barista from the morning backed out the door. She kicked the door shut, a necessity because her arms were overflowing with a tower of books taller than her head. They swayed softly as she shuffled backwards until she lightly bumped into the counter. Only once she was firmly pressed against it did the woman twist about to dump her towering pile all over the counter.

Then she straightened out, rested her now empty hands on her hips, and frowned at him. “You again?”

“Is that normally how you speak to customers?” Alex asked, head tilting to one side as he shot her an impish smile. She hadn’t shown any surprise at him being there, so clearly she’d heard him come in. A feat that should have been impossible for a human considering the thickness of the office door.

The woman shrugged. “Only when said customers are wolves who need to learn when to keep their snouts out of other people's business. The pack here does not track or control other magical beings coming and goings.” Her eyes, still that strange burnt sienna, flicked from Alex to the stack Taylor was currently hidden behind. “You have no right to investigate me simply because i’m not human.”

She was right too. The Marrok had made it clear over the years that he didn’t approve of packs trying to run off the local supernatural populations. While that might include the local fae communities, witch covens, and vampire seethes it was mostly also a rule that applied to the smaller less cohesive groups. One pack had tried to run off a family of yokai who’d immigrated to the city, and suffered a long chat with Charles Cornick for their actions. Not all of them had walked away from it.

Alex, however, was an alpha. He had the right to investigate newcomers to the supernatural community to decide if they were a threat to his pack. Or to warn his pack away from easily irritated beings. “I simply want to know what you are, and how long you’ve been here. There’s no notice of you announcing your presence to our pack.”

“As if I need your packs permission to be here! This is a Sinclair family property. I have every legal right to help out with my family store.” The woman spat back. Her knuckles had gone white from pressure, but her stance had loosened.

Alexander meanwhile was trying not to choke as what she’d said caught up to him. Especially since that was a very familiar name to the local supernatural community. “As in Isabella Sinclair, the local head witch? ” He looked the woman before him up and down, then grinned. “Does that make you little Syrena then, the grand daughter? Did you really put glitter in Isabella’s shampoo last time you visited?”

Taylor, who was wandering past with a collection of mythology books, perked up at the familiar name. “You’re talking about the muffin witch, right? She’s awesome!” He said.

Syrena blinked down at Taylor for a moment. “Why would you call grandmother that?”

The new wolf shrugged. “She always has a bowl of muffins on her kitchen table.” He explained.

Rena nodded at that. “She bakes them fresh every morning.”

A more in depth examination of Rena’s features made Alex smile. Although the woman clearly took after her native american mother the classic italian eyes and cheekbones that had made Isabella such a beauty were still proportionate in the witches granddaughter. Their hair was even the same mass of twisting curls even if Isabella’s was once a deeper black then Rena’s deep mahogany.

“Taylor, why don’t you finish gathering the books you want while Ms. Sinclair and I chat?” Alex suggested. The young wolf nodded eagerly and scuttled back down a row of shelves.

Rena took that moment to examine his face, then shook her head at Alex. “Call grandmother and ask her your questions. I’ll talk with you after you’ve spoken with her.”

“I’ll just pop into the office and call her then, if that's alright with you?” He asked as he moved around the counter. Only stopping when they were a breath away from each other.

Rena swallowed and nodded, but didn’t say anything  as the werewolf sidled past her into the mostly soundproofed room.

* * *

A part of Alex was mentally kicking himself for having missed such an obvious connection. Especially since Isabella Sinclair had been his packs goto white witch since the then young woman had immigrated to Canada. She’s fled Italy and her family after refusing a marriage offer and had made a name for herself as the most powerful white witch in Canada. The woman was well known for her truly awe inspiring wards. A set of which no doubt protected this shop.

He’d known that Isabella had non witch family members. She’d offhandedly mentioned that her son was bringing his family back from Edmonton a few years ago, but he’d never bothered to look into it. Isabella ruled the local coven, and he’d met all three of her apprentice grandchildren. It had never occurred to the wolf to look into her less magical descendants.

Perhaps Alex should have. Especially if Isabella had known her granddaughter wasn’t human the whole time. He just couldn’t understand why she hadn’t given him a heads up? He’d known her for nearly half a century. Surely in all that time they’d earned each other's trust?


	3. An Interesting Phone Call

Isabella Sinclair moved through her kitchen with the confidence of a woman who knew she was the scariest person in the room. Admittedly she was the only person in the room, but that didn’t mean she was wrong. The most powerful white witch in Canada always has reason to strut. Pride, she believed, was only a downfall if it was blinding. Isabella had earned every ounce of her confidence.

She ran a single finger over the row of charms on her necklace, and let her magic flow. Each of her wards was a unique chime in her mind, and the sweet drone of all of them together was a soothing background noise in every moment of her life. If even one of them was disturbed the soothing melody would become a screaming disharmonis cord.

Tonight there was no disturbance.

Isabella smiled. A honey sweet smile that had once drawn men the way sugar drew wasps. Even now she could still light up a room, but her looks were no longer something she relied on.Time had taught her it was better to be feared or respected then to be desired. It had also threaded silver through her once black hair and creased smooth skin to wrinkles. 

It hadn’t stolen her mind or her power yet, and those were what Isabella held most dear.

That wasn’t what made her more dangerous though. Isabella Sinclair was dangerous because she was a survivor. Very few white witches made it to adulthood. Much less made it anywhere near her level of power. In all of north america there was maybe six white witches at the same power level as her. Being this strong scared the weaker black witches away, but tended to encourage the stronger ones. It there was one thing most witches shared it was a competitive drive.

Isabella had been young and alone when she’d struck that deal with Old Charlie. A deal LaChance had been more than happy to reaffirm when Charlie had hopped in a lake.

The electric kettle dinged, and she filled her little teapot. The strainer was already sitting in the teapot. She watched the steam rise from the pot for a moment, and gently traced her fingers over the knicks and gouges on the solid oak table. There were so many years of history store in this table top. Years she’d never expected to live to see.

A shrill noise cut through the room a mere moment before her phone lit up. Isabella sighed, but dutifully reached over to answer it. Only one contact on her phone had that ringtone, and LaChance wouldn’t call her this late in the evening for nothing. It had better be something important if he was interrupting her evening tea.

“What did your wolves do this time Alexander?” She asked.

For once the alpha werewolf didn’t indulge her teasing. “What is Syrena?”

“Ahhh.” Isabella closed her eyes, and felt over 5 years of carefully constructed falsehoods crumble down around her.

She’d sent Syrena to the high school none of the pack members had any relatives in. She’d always avoided the park by LaChance’s house incase they ran into him out for a walk. She’d even steered her granddaughter to the night classes the werewolves couldn’t take. The spirited preteen running amuck had always worried Isabella, but she’d relaxed after a couple of years. Perhaps she’d let her guard down too soon.

Honesty was generally the best option when dealing with pissed off werewolves. They were proud of their ability to smell lies, so they tended to get prickly when you managed to pull the wool over their eyes.

So for once she was brutally honest with the man. “I honestly don’t know what she is, and I’ve been looking into it since she was ten. At first I thought she might be a skinwalker, but it turned out that those are from certain tribes. Also she was 10, so probably not evil.”

Sara had been insulted to be compared to the skinwalkers. Isabella believed her too because her wards wouldn’t have let someone evil in.

There was nothing but silence on the other line, so Isabella kept going. “She was born that way, as was her mother. They’re practically harmless Alex! I could pick her up in one hand.”

“Practically?” Alex prodded, still sounding guarded.

She scoffed in response. “Her hearing and sense of smell are on par with yours, she runs better than most marathoners, and she wont stop eating my damn tulips! Keep her away from your garden and you should be fine.”

“She smells like prey, so being a herbivore makes sense.” Alex laughed.

Isabella felt the ball on stress in her chest begin to unwind. “My granddaughter isn’t lunch LaChance. I’ll be crass with you if you try.”

“Can I take her out to eat then? I’ve got questions for her.” He asked.

Isabella rolled her eyes at that. “When is it ever just talking with you? Do you need her to pay tribute? I’ll cover it.”

“We’re not the damn vampires Isa!” Alex growled. “I just need to work out some ground rules for interacting with my pack. For her safety.” He said.

“Where did you find her anyways?” She asked.

Alex chuckled at that. “I forgot you owned a bookstore. The cake is excellent. You really out did yourself with that recipe.”

“Of all the-” Isabella pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. She’d known Alex’s office was only a few blocks away, but she’d never really worried about him visiting the store. She’d been doing all her witchy business out of her house for years before then.

Wisely Alex didn’t comment on that. Likely because he’d been on the short side of her temper often enough to know better. “If you don’t mind I left your lovely granddaughter waiting for me outside, so I’m going to finish this call.”

“Keep your sticky fingers off my granddaughter.” She teased as she finally reached for her tea.

“And be gentle with her. Syrena’s skittish around wolves.” With good reason to. It was always wise to fear the predators high up the food chain from you.

Alex made a noise of agreement. “I’ll keep it in mind. Go finish your tea.”

Isabella placed her phone back off to the side and gave the table before her an amused look. Carved directly in front of her were the initials S.S in messy lines.

“We’ll now,” she crooned out. “Things are getting interesting.”


	4. Smaller Than He Thought

Friday nights were always busy for Syrena Sinclair. Actually, all of her Friday was busy. She had morning classes, then a lunch shift at the cafe, and then she closed the bookstore that night. There she would stay until ten when she could finally lock up. Today was luckily pretty slow in the bookstore. Probably because it was the start of the semester. It could get a little crazy around finals week.

A smart woman knew to take advantage of lulls at work, so that's what Rena did. The bookstore always had unlisted inventory or needed a restock.

The unlisted books were stored in the soundproofed spare room behind the the counter that was also technically an office. Her grandmother had bespelled it so no one inside could be overheard, but they could still hear if someone started a commotion. A left over from years ago when Isabella still did witches work outside of her cottage. Because of that spellwork Syrena knew there were people in the bookstore, but not who.

The struggled to open the door around the giant stack of books she had towering past her head. Wary of dropping them she shuffled backwards to the counter and dropped them off there. Then she turned around, placed her hands on her hips, and stared the wolf down.

“You again?” She asked, just cranky and tired enough to go for bravado rather than respect.

The man’s amber eyes flared at the challenge. “Is that normally how you speak to customers?”

“Only when said customers are wolves who need to learn when to keep their snouts out of other people's business.” She glanced at where she could hear someone else browsing the stacks. Was that another wolf or just an innocent customer?  “The pack here does not track or control other magical beings coming and goings. You have no right to investigate me simply because i’m not human.” She knew their rules, and wasn’t afraid to use them against him.

The wolf however knew them too. “I simply want to know what you are, and how long you’ve been here. There’s no notice of you announcing your presence to our pack.”

“As if I need your packs permission to be here!” Wasn’t that just like werewolves to think they could just boss anyone around. “This is a Sinclair family property. I have every legal right to help out with my family store.” She’d like to see Mr. tall, dark, and grumpy try to stop her!

The wolf frowned. “As in Isabella Sinclair, the local head witch? ” He gave her a quick look over, focusing on her face, and then grinned. “Does that make you little Syrena then, the grand daughter? Did you really put glitter in Isabella’s shampoo last time you visited?”

Syrena resisted the urge to groan. You pull one little prank and no one ever lets you forget it! It had been years since she pulled that trick, and yet everyone kept bringing it up.

The other wolf, who was so mellow she’d nearly forgotten him, stopped in his tracks. He’d been wandering past with a small collection of mythology books. Now he’d come to a stop and was gaping at her. “You’re talking about the muffin witch, right? She’s awesome!” The boy was practically bouncing in place.

Syrena would have found it cuter if she wasn’t so busy being horrified by the baby wolf. The kid didn’t even have any peach fuzz! Why did anyone think it was a good idea to change him?

“Why would you call grandmother that?” she asked instead. The boy didn’t look like he was being mistreated, but she still couldn’t understand why he’d been changed so young.

The blond shrugged. “She always has a bowl of muffins on her kitchen table.”

“She bakes them fresh every morning.” She nodded. Almost everyone of Isabella’s grand kids had made a habit of detouring to their grandmother’s house to get muffins if they could. It was practically a family tradition at this point.

The dominant wolf stepped back into the conversation then. Maybe he’d gotten sick of being ignored? “Taylor, why don’t you finish gathering the books you want while Ms. Sinclair and I chat?”

It was phrased like a request. The boy however jumped to obey. This didn’t seem like a surprise to the other wolf either. He didn’t even bother to check if the boy had obeyed. Instead he just stalked right over to her.

She could barely meet his eyes. The animal inside of her begged her to freeze, then book it the moment the path was clear. Instinct said not to tempt the beast. Syrena pushed all that aside with years of practice and twisted around to stare him down.

“Call grandmother and ask her your questions. I’ll talk with you after you’ve spoken with her.” she said.

The wolf moved. He pressed towards her until only a breath separated them. “I’ll just pop into the office and call her then, if that's alright with you?”

Syrena froze. The animal couldn’t bring herself to move when so close to a strange predator, and the woman was drawn to the heat of the man. She only managed a nod before he entered the room.

The wards around the back office snapped back into place. She could still hear the wolves heartbeat,but not whatever he was saying. They’d been designed by her grandmother to let her know if someone was in the office while still allowing it to be used for private conversations. It had been a much needed compromise between her need for safety and other people's need for privacy. The wards worked the same both directions too, although her grandmother had never explained why that was so.

She hoped her grandmother wasn’t in trouble.

“It’ll be fine.” The little werewolf assured her as he deposited a stack of books on the counter.

He didn’t seem willing to meet her eyes, but she couldn’t pick up any fear in his scent either. “Why do you say that?” she asked as she started sorting his books.”And why are you a werewolf so young? I thought there was an age restriction.”

“Alex- uh, Alpha LaChance I meant, is a good man. Like a really good man. Cinnamon roll level of good man. If cinnamon rolls grew claws i guess.” Taylor said without looking up from his stack of books. He kept worrying at the bent corner of one of the soft covers. “He took my sister and I in after some moon mad asshole attacked us. He didn’t have to, but he let us live in his house while our parents will was being sorted. He likes caring for others.” The last part was said softly, and there was a trembling smile on the boys lips.

A moment later what the boy said finally registered, and she found herself wheezing against the counter. The man in her office was the Greater Lower Valley pack alpha! No wonder he's been so affronted by her unannounced presence in his territory.

He could have snapped her neck and no one would have held him accountable.

“Nonono!” Taylor waved a hand in front of her face. “I upset you! He’s going to be so mad at me!” He whined. The kind of whine not normally heard from a human throat.

She hadn’t wanted to upset the teen either. “Hey- it's okay. I’m fine.” She assured him while hauling herself back off the counter. 

“He can be kinda intimidating sometimes.” Taylor said. “You get used to it after awhile.” He added on as an afterthought.

Syrena wasn’t sure she wanted to get used to it. Her mother had gotten used to Edmonton’s local pack, and it had gotten her mauled. “Perhaps not.”

“I really don't think you have a choice.” The boys said with a wince.

She caught his chin and lifted the teens face so they were eye to eye. He tried to glance away, but she wouldn’t let him. Syrena wanted this to sink in. “Why not? Once all of this is cleared up how often do you really think a busy alpha has to check in on a stranger?”

“Wolves are curious things.” Taylor said. “You’re interesting. Don’t be surprised if he sticks around to try and pick apart your secrets.” He squirmed slightly, but she didn’t let go. He was a werewolf. If he really wanted out of her grasp he could break her hold easily.

Syrena was no wolf. She could not smell lies like they could, but her senses were far stronger than a human’s. The boy was nervous, but that could just be the close quarters between them. His heart hadn’t suddenly sped up. He also wouldn’t meet her eyes, but she was starting to suspect that was the usual for him.

She was pretty sure he was telling the truth, or least the truth as he knew it.

“LaChance will find something else to puzzle over sooner or later.” She declared, releasing Taylor’s chin, and stepping back to give the boy some space. “Regardless this conversation is over. Tell me about that project of your instead. I’ll see what I can dig up for you.”

* * *

When Alex finally stepped back out of the office he found Syrena and Taylor skimming their way through a sizable stack of books. It looked like they’d started with nearly thirty books, but their keep pile seemed to only have six books.

“You can’t use this one as a research essay source.” Syrena reached over a plucked a book from the boy’s hands. “The author is a bigoted hack who hints at ‘divine assistance from the skies’ because he doesn’t believe non-Europeans could build cities by themselves. You don’t want Mr. Aliens-did-it as a primary source.” She chucked the book onto the returns cart as if it acid.

Taylor dropped a similar book by the same author on the cart as well. “Especially not when Mr. Locke said he’d be checking our sources.”

Syrena nodded, then added two more books to the nope pile.

Taylor added another book to the keep pile. Then he counted them all with a frown. “This is a lot of books.”

“It's not as expensive as it looks.” She assured him. “The new retail price for all of that was probably $150. At our pricing its closer to $80, and I made sure to grab the more worn down ones when I could since you’re going to write in them. With the wear and tear discount this is all closer to $60.” LaChance would be good for it, she knew.

They worked well together, which pleased Alex. Taylor was normally very shy and hesitate, but Syrena had no problem breaking things down into simple steps for the boy. She lead easily. To Alex it was clear that Syrena was used to being in charge. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d headed at least a couple of clubs in school.

She was clearly aware of what a predator he was. She kept freezing when startled, or shifting as if to run. Clearly herbivorous behaviour, but she also pushed past her instincts. She bossed Taylor around even though the boy was completely capable of snapping her in half, and she’d met Alex’s eyes thrice in challenge. That took a lot of guts.

“Everything in order?” Syrena called out to him. She glance over her shoulder at Alex, then went back to sorting books.

The wolf didn’t like being to clearly dismissed, but the man found it amusing. “I’d like to ask you a couple questions, and clarify some rules for your safety. When does this shop close?”

He’d bet it was soon. There were only two people left upstairs and it sounded like they were cleaning up. 

“In ten.” She said after a quick glance at her watch. “Can we ring this up so I can cash out and put my till in the safe?” She pushed away the cart and straightened the pile of accepted books as she spoke.

She’d been right about the prices too. The eight books cost just below $65, which was quite the steal considering the amount of hardcover copies in that stack. Alex sent Taylor up to the car with his books to wait. Syrena spent that time rushing through her closing checklist. She cashed out, shut down the computer, and tucked her till into the hidden office safe. Her father would come in and count it in the morning when he did the books.

When she returned from the office she found that Alex had neatly organised the books on the return cart.

“I’ll push, you shelve.” He told her when she tried to tug the cart away from him.

Syrena knew she was never going to beat a werewolf in a tug-of-war so she shrugged and started shelving. “Alright, have it your way.”

“My favourite.” Alex laughed.

It went surprisingly quickly. He responded to her slowing down almost instantaneously, so she didn’t have to worry about being hit by the heavy cart. He could also reach all the top shelves, which saved her from having to haul around a stool.

When they were finished they headed upstairs where Syrena dismissed Richard the barista and Talia the cleaning girl. The two had already wiped down, swept, mopped, and packed away everything they could. Syrena passed them a quarter of the leftover food each and sent them on their way. The she packed the remaining sandwiches, pastries, and cake in Tupperware she’d hidden behind the counter.

“Cookie?” She asked, holding one out towards Alex.

He took it in one hand, then caught her wrist in the other. “Dessert so soon? I haven’t asked you to dinner yet.”

“I’m going to miss the last bus if you keep flirting with me like that.” She warned, reclaiming her hand.

He shook his head. “I’ll drive you. Do you mind stopping by my office first? I still have a couple questions for you. We can use the meeting room.”

A part of her wanted to say no, but Syrena knew better than that. The more she cleared up now the less likely someone would get hurt due to a misconception later on. Plus she had a very unpredictable schedule. Having their meeting now made sense, even if she all she wanted to do was go home. Sleep is for the weak though, so she nodded and let Alex lead the way.

* * *

They piled into Alex’s truck. A shiny new F250 with a snoozing Taylor in the back seat. Downtown Abbotsford was a ghost town this late at night, so they made it to Alex’s office in no time flat. They left Taylor in the break room with two sandwiches and a comfy couch to sleep on. Then they headed up to Alec’s office.

He didn’t want to make the meeting formal, she Alex ignored his desk to settle instead on a couch tucked away in the corner of the office.

“So... what do you want to know?” Syrena asked as she sat down.

What a complicated question, and one Alex wasn’t certain he knew how to answer. He was walking a fine line between what he had a right to demand as the local alpha and what he wanted to know to sate his curiosity. Syrena was offering to bare her life to him to prove she wasn’t a threat to his pack. He had to respect that and not pry more than neccary. There would be time to wheedle other secrets from her later. “Why don’t you just tell me everything you think I need to know for a starter? We’ll go from there.”

“Okay, so I’m a shapeshifter.” She started off with. “I shift at will, not moon-called, and it's painless. It happens in seconds. Mother calls us avatars, or the descendants of the firsts.” Sara had always claimed she got the ability from her mother, but Syrena had never met the woman to confirm. Her maternal grandmother had disappeared long before Syrena was born.

Alex nodded. “I’ve heard about this. The Marrok’s pack hosted a young native girl who turned into a coyote. I think they called her a walker?”

“That’s a white person term, and derived from skinwalker. Of which I am not one.” She said coolly. “I prefer the term shapeshifter, or avatar.” She added.

He made a mental note of that to pass along to his pack. It wouldn’t do for callous words from one of them to alienate her before he’d finished working her out. “Can I see your other form?”

She blushed. It was mostly hidden by her darker skin, but Alex had very good eyes and was paying plenty of attention. She smelled embarrassed too. Embarrassed, and a little interested. He wanted to touch her and feel the heat of that blush.

“My clothes don’t exactly shift with me.” She said.

He hadn’t actually meant that she should shift directly in front of him. That would have been incredibly rude to request, but that also wasn’t the point here. “The door beside you leads to an ensuite. I’d advise leaving the door cracked unless your big enough to reach the nob.”

She left her sweater and shoes by the couch and plodded off to the bathroom. She left the door crack, but it swings towards the couch so she still retained her privacy. Then she started stripping.

Alex could hear her. The soft sound of fabric dragging across skin was loud to his ears. Her clothes made a whisper of noise as they hit the tile floor, and the metal click of her bra hooks was attention grabbing. Alex’s wolf perked up. There was an attractive and willing female getting out of her clothes mere feet away, but here they were staring futilely at the coffee table.

The wolf wanted to take her. To have the woman over his desk, on the couch, or against the wall. Anywhere would do. It wasn’t picky. She’d smell like him then, which would stop the pack from harassing her. Then again the wolf was almost always up for sex.

The man was much more interested right now in what was currently shuffling around his office bathroom. Small and herbivorous is what Isabella had described her granddaughter as. He tried to picture it. A little herbivore with a fondness for flowers what was on average small enough to be held one handed. Any number of little critters from his time as a fur trapper sprang to mind.

Then Syrena hopped around the door.

She was tiny, brown, and about as dangerous as a bag of feathers. He couldn’t help but laugh.

* * *

Normally changing was very freeing for Syrena. It felt like tingle and sparks flowing over her skin, and left her standing in her other form. She was also usually okay with being naked. Even in front of other people. Most shapeshifters got used to it eventually. If your cloths didn’t shift with you then naked was the way to be.

She'd honestly considered stripping and shifting right there in front of Alex. Knowing he be watching though had made this time different. So instead of thinking of the feeling of a shift she was thinking of how intense the alpha’s eyes were.

Not the most optimal mindset to shift in, so she’d been grateful when he’d offered her the bathroom. She was also a little disappointed. What would have happened if she had stripped downed right there in front of him? How would he have reacted? Did he taste as good as he smelled? He looked like he wanted to eat her alive in all the best ways, and she would have let him too.

She could smell him. He was all over his office in a cloud of mint and musk. Her furry other half trembled at it all. They should run and hide until the predator passed as instinct demanded. She pushed it away with iron focus though. This was not the time to panic and hide. Besides, he was two legged right now. She was smaller than him. Worst came to pass and she could just duck and run. That silly werewolf would need 4 feet to catch her.

Plan of action decided she hopped her way around the door and into the view of the office. Then she twisted to see him and plopped down to wait for the verdict. It didn’t take long.

* * *

He hadn’t meant to laugh. Truly he hadn’t, but she was just so tiny! She was tiny and fluffy and not even a mouthful. He’d hunted thousands of her kind larger than she, and he couldn’t believe he’d ever been worried about what she was. Harmless, completely incapable of being a threat! She’d be hard pressed to maul an infant.

Rabbits were simply not scary.

She was tiny like all of the wild breeds of her kind. Over all her form was mostly a light brown. Her belly was white, and her tail was too. He’d eaten thousands of wild rabbits just like her. She was so small he could pick her up and bowl her if he wanted too.

“You are so tiny lapinette!” He was bent over with tears in his eyes. Then, a mere moment later, he found himself being shoved by an angry female. An angry, naked female who was nearly in his lap. That currently got his attention.

She shoved him again. “You take that back! I’m perfectly sized for a rabbit. Stop laughing!”

The world froze. They both seemed to process the fact that she was naked in his lap at the same moment. Alex blinked, Syrena squeaked, and then she was booking it back to the bathroom like a pack of werewolves were after her. It gave Alex a chance to see exactly how far down that blush went, but he was a little too stunned to really enjoy it. She was shockingly fast. The bathroom door slammed shut behind her, and for a moment all either of them could do was breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Between hints in this oneshot and in the main story I think I've made it pretty clear what animal Syrena's is, but I'm curious if anyone can guess the exact breed. Leave a comment either here or on Grandmother's Legacy- the tie in oneshot about Syrena's first shift. I'll announce the winners in ch 5. Good luck!  
> Also Sorry for the posting taking so long. There was a big inspection at my volunteer position and we've spent the past 2 weeks frantically trying to get the kids up to standards. Things were a little hectic.


End file.
